


A Place to Call Home

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: 1960s, Alternate Universe - 1960s, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Male Character of Color, Reader-Insert, Stonewall Riots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 20:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15590406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	A Place to Call Home

One day it wouldn’t be like this. He was sure of it. But today was not that day. “You ready, babe?” Y/N asked, pressing a kiss to his lips before they headed out onto the street. Once outside, they couldn’t do anything. No kissing, no holding hands, no nothing. If they did, they could be taken into custody and they couldn’t risk that. 

Spencer leaned into Y/N and took a deep breath. “You think things will be different in our lifetime?” He asked. He wanted to be able to hold the hand of the man he loved. He wanted to be able to go to a bar and outwardly enjoy his company. He wanted to not have to worry about what either of them were wearing. 

For him, it didn’t really matter. Spencer had always preferred wearing what society coined “gender-appropriate clothing,” wearing a pair of jeans that was just baggy enough to be breathable while still staying up on his thin frame. On top, he had a button down shirt in a dark blue. If he had the choice he’d wear purple or pink, but he could be arrested for that, so he only wore them indoors. Y/N on the other hand had to pay very close attention to what he was wearing every time he left the house. Ever since he was a kid, Y/N had preferred bright colors, but those were considered feminine so he couldn’t wear them. 

“I don’t know,” Y/N said honestly, giving Spencer’s hand a light squeeze. “We can only hope.”

After taking solace in the other’s embrace for just a moment longer, they left the apartment and walked side by side a few feet apart. Despite not showing any affection for each other, they still received some looks. Even with the Civil Rights movement opening some doors, certain people still found it unacceptable to see a white man and a black man as friends. Boy, wouldn’t they hate it if they knew that the two shared a bed. 

A few blocks away stood the only place they could call home - Stonewall Inn. The moment they walked inside a weight lifted. “You already look relaxed,” Spencer laughed, finally moving closer to the man he loved. “Want a drink?”

Nodding, he moved toward the back of the bar to see if he could find Marsha and her friends while Spencer grabbed their drinks. After three years together, Spencer knew what he wanted to drink even before he did. Sure enough, he found him five minutes later at the back with two jack and cokes in his hand. “Hey Marsha. How are you?”

“Could be better, could be worse,” she replied. Marsha was fearless. Originally the club was only for gay men, which Spencer always thought was stupid, but once they started allowing women and drag queens inside, Marsha was one of the first to come in. She, Spencer and Y/N had hit it off immediately. “But I have a drink and good friends, so I’ll count my blessings for the moment.”

It was like a bad omen in disguise. 

Just hours after they’d arrived, Spencer spotted the cops at the front door. “Not again,” he sighed. Considering it was still illegal to even dance with someone of the same sex, the cops never needed to justify walking into the bar. Many of their friends scattered into the wind, hoping that the cops wouldn’t follow. They were inspecting clothing again. If anyone wasn’t wearing at least three items of gender appropriate clothing, they could be arrested, and if the cops couldn’t deduce someone’s gender, they would insist on inspecting genitals, hence why Spencer and Y/N always took the precaution of dressing very masculine although they didn’t want to. 

Marsha had headed toward the front of the bar, never one to let things go while Spencer and Y/N stayed at the back. “What’s happening?” Y/N asked. He was slightly shorter than Spencer so he couldn’t see anything. 

“I think they’re arresting Stormé,” he replied. He could see her turn around and say something to the cops and then all of a sudden they hit her on the back of the head and the sound of glass cracking could be heard. “Oh hell, Marsha just through her shot glass at the cops.” 

Without thinking, Spencer grabbed Y/N’s hand and left with the next wave of patrons exiting the bar. “We can’t just leave them there,” Y/N said, glancing backward.

“We’re not,” Spencer replied. Other patrons and friends of theirs that had already left the bar had gathered outside to make a demonstration. “Unless you want to.”

“No,” Y/N replied, giving Spencer’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’m done hiding.”

Although they weren’t sure who it was, they followed the lead of the woman at the front of the crowd and through whatever they could at the officers that emerged. Stormé was being shoved into the back of the patrol car and had shouted for people to act. Normally, this wasn’t the kind of thing Spencer would do - picking up bottles off the street to throw at a cop - but this wasn’t how cops were supposed to act. They were supposed to keep people safe. Bring about justice for those who’d been wronged. This wasn’t justice, this was corruption. For too long, Stonewall had been unfairly targeted. None of them could sit by any longer and simply take it. This was their home and no one had the right to take it from them.


End file.
